Such A Tangled Web We Weave
by Of Words and Thoughts
Summary: ZADR, I must warn you. This is the story or how I envisioned it to be of Zim and Dib... how they fall in love and such. Could get angsty. I'm not promising a happy ending. Slight AU. Rated T for future chapters.
1. Of Gingerbread Houses

Slight AU. ZADR, ZADR, ZADR.

A/N: I think this will be a bit hard to read and understand… I'm sorry. Let me explain first, then: the first part takes place four years into the future (so Dib is fourteen-ish). The second part, as clearly stated, takes place four years earlier, as in around the present canon time… kind of. The rest of the story continues on in this canon-ish time format, except the end…

--

He reached for the plastic bottle of water, positioned precariously on top of the white refrigerator. His hands grabbled uselessly over the white surface, almost but not quite touching the still bottle.

"Ugh…" He stood up on his toes and reached once more, as high as he could. Still he could not touch it.

How could Gaz do this so effortlessly? he wondered. _Any height, she's got it…and she's shorter than me, too… _

He tried again, reaching as high, high, high, as he possibly ever could. All the reaching was beginning to annoy him, and it showed on his slowly darkening face. His dry throat hurt.

And then it happened: a sudden laser burst, a bright dangerous red, shot past Dib's irritated face, effectively startling him into forgetting his balance as he instinctively leaned backwards. He fell, hands flailing in all directions, onto the cold tiled floor.

"Huh…?"

The stunned boy lay eagle-spread on the floor, his face turned up to the ceiling. The faint smell of smoke danced around his nose. There was something blurry at the window.

_Green… _it was green!

So reminiscent of someone he knew… _Zim…_

The old exclamation rose up as easily as if it had only been a day, and not years, ever since he had used it._ "ZIM, _YOU--!"

But as quickly as it arrived, it was gone, the almost-comforting-yet--somewhat-terrifying color, the color _green… _

And there was a _laser burst_. There was no mistaking that lethal shot of fiery crimson.

Very much shaken, Dib remained on the ground, staring up at the white ceiling. He can't be back. He left. He died. He's gone. He was. Just another forgotten chapter in my life, just another story…

And the bottle of water fell down, smoking, one side slightly melted. Dib stayed still. He didn't need it anymore.

--

_Four years earlier_

"No, Zim! You… ugh… put it like _so!" _Dib spread his hands through the air in exasperation. "And _don't _shoot the jellybeans at the other children!"

Heedless of the Dib, the horribly-disguised alien, known only as the magnificent Zim, irritably flicked another one of the flavored, multicolored candies (this time, a bright orange) at the back of an innocently dancing around the room red-haired little girl. She squawked as she felt the jellybean hit the exact center of her oh-so-delicate back.

Despite Dib's deadly glare, the Zim's face split in an open smile-- I mean smirk. Yes, he was great, was he not? His aim was impeccable.

Dib suddenly felt a desperate urge to throttle Zim until his green skin turned a pleasant shade of purple. Or blue. Doesn't matter, really. But he stayed himself.

He _was _in Miss Periwinkle's class, after all. And while her name sounded innocent enough, and her sugary sweet smile harmless enough, there was still something odd about the blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady… something that Dib would almost describe as creepy. He _did _catch a glimpse of a bloody half-eaten carcass of a rat in her desk just the other day…

Which was precisely why, when Miss Periwinkle paired Dib up with Zim to work on a gingerbread house ("A nice Christmas project!" she had said, beaming brightly… was there a speck of red on her teeth?), the pale-skinned boy offered no argument. The same could not be exactly said for Zim, who had shrieked in what could only be described as something like, "AAAAAUUUUKKKKKKK!!"

Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, as Dib had been hoping Zim's shrieking would be rude enough to get him kicked out of the classroom (or even better, get his life-juices sucked out by Miss Periwinkle…), Miss Periwinkle correctly interpreted his shrieking as "I don't want to work with that stupid big-headed boy!", and had said, with a not-so-benevolent widening of her smile, "Oh, don't worry, Zim. I think you'll find Dib a _very _good partner." And she had walked off, leaving a very bewildered boy (_She made me sound like I was… a prostitute or a husband or… something! _thought Dib) and a wide-eyed green-skinned alien (_The Dib-thing? Good for me? HARDLY! But that hideous smile…. _Zim thought with a shudder) staring after her.

And so here it was, the result of Miss Periwinkle's clever move, a raven-haired boy mere seconds away from choking Zim into submission (or pelt him with JELLYBEANS OF DOOM!) and a greenish alien-thing eyeing the jar of jellybeans almost covetously.

A sigh. "Just pay attention, Zim. Here-- hold this gingerbread piece. And _don't _try to break-- hands off the jellybeans!"

Sulkily, Zim dropped his hand. It wasn't that he was actually following Dib for once; the Irken just happened to notice Miss Periwinkle's unsettling bright blue eyes watching them unblinkingly.

"I don't see why the amazing ZIM has to do this," Zim muttered discontentedly. "I do not even see the _point _in doing this. Why use edible foodstuffs to build a house? It won't last long that way! And why is it so small? Are the humans who are going to live in it _small_?"

Dib concentrated on squeezing the white icing out onto the gingerbread. He had explained fifty-eight times already (he had kept count) to Zim the concept of gingerbread houses. He was not going over it for the fifty-ninth time.

Then, in a smug voice: "Once again, you _hyoo_-mans prove your inferiority against me, Zim!"

Enough. Rolling his eyes skyward, Dib replied dryly, "If we humans are so inferior to you, why didn't you take over us yet? You know… enslave us, kill us, all that fun stuff you seem so determined to do. You've done a lot of things, but nothing really has changed." The boy did not really expect a reply to his little speech, save for a disgruntled silence or a "That is because I am busy cooking up the most AMAA-ZING PLAN ev-uh!! So there!"

The Irken turned away and glared daggers at the wall. Ah. So it was the silent treatment. Dib shook his head a bit, and bent his head back down over the white icing.

Then, unexpectedly, a black-gloved hand shot out right under his nose. Before Dib could do or say anything, he felt a stinging pain across his cheek, the result of Zim's sharp slap. Wide-eyed, Dib could only stare at Zim, who stared back at him with an alarming ferocity, almost disturbing in its nature. His eyes were wide and furious; the boy could clearly see the edges of the Irken's crimson eyes beneath the contact lenses.

All of a sudden: "Are you just going to sit there, Dib-thing, or are we not making these hideously pointless gingerbread-thingies?" Dib blinked, and Zim was staring at him irritably, a gingerbread piece in his hand, and the jar of jellybeans in the other. It was as if Zim hadn't done anything at all, and the angry red mark that showed clearly on Dib's cheek was absolutely nonexistent.

Or maybe he had just gone crazy.

"Ah… yeah…" And he took the white icing, and, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Zim take up a lime green jellybean, aiming at another poor student, no doubt.

Oh, dear God, he was going crazy.

But the stinging pain throbbed in his cheek.

--

…I have in mind a strange ending for this fic… a strange, perhaps unsatisfying one. It may change, or may not… I'm not really sure.

Oh, and I know that Miss Bitters is the usual teacher shown in the show, but I think that there could be more than one teacher in the Skool. From the show, it may not be how it works, but ah, well.

Anyway, review, tell me what you think, yadda-yadda-yadda. Oh, and concrit is especially requested!


	2. Poisoned Lemonade

Yiss… this story is turning out to have an odd plot. Hm…

Oh, and thanks for the review and the alert, Swing-21! And to WolvesAngelz, who faved and alerted this story, and to kateriiine who put it on alert!

--

Dib never really did understand what the slapping incident was all about. There was still a dull pain in his cheek, and when he had reached home, Gaz had glanced up at him expressionlessly from over her Game Slave (she had stayed home because she simply "didn't feel like going to school"), got off the couch, and went into the kitchen, most likely to consume the last slice of pizza stored in the refrigerator before Dib.

No questions were asked, and no answers were offered. He did not know why he hadn't exclaimed, "Zim, what was _that?" _or something clearer, like, "Zim, why did you hit me?" He had just meekly finished setting up the gingerbread house (after hesitantly asking Miss Periwinkle for another gingerbread piece, as Zim had broken it with an indifferent "whoops"), propping in all the gum drops and jellybeans and such. The alien besides him had talked, gestured, and shouted just as flamboyantly as the Irken normally did… it was like nothing had happened.

But something had happened. A simple (but still rather painful) slap… but why did that matter? Hadn't he and Zim fought each other before, in ways worse than just a little slap? There were guns and laser fights, Irken weapons of mass destruction, heck, they even had a planet-spaceship battle!

_But it had all been a game… _

Yes, it had been… a game of cat-and-mouse, where both had been the cat and both had been the mouse… neither the winner nor the loser. At first, Dib had been set on capturing Zim and showing his guts to the whole wide world, but…

_But is that what I want now? Would I actually do that if I did capture him?_

No…

_Of course I would!_

But there was no denying the bitter regret he would feel if he did, regret at the end of the game, regret that the dullness of his life-before-Zim would be back. For, as irritating as the alien could be, Zim did have interesting ways of bringing excitement into people's lives…

But that _slap_… it was clearly not part of the game.

And that was the part that unnerved Dib the most.

--

The next day, Dib cautiously entered class as if he expected a mad group of rabid squirrels to jump on him the second he walked through the door. Out of pure instinct and habit, he immediately scanned the room for the familiar green figure lazily lounging on a chair, perhaps twirling a pencil in its fingers.

But it wasn't there, _he_ wasn't there.

"_Working on a plan, perhaps?" _whispered the voice in the back of his mind, the voice in which his paranoia manifested itself.

"_Most likely_," Dib murmured back. Yes, he often conversed with the voice in his mind. It, ironically, made him feel much more sane. He walked to his chair, ignoring the hiss that Miss Bitters sent him, and sat down.

The wizened old teacher stood up and began a monotonous speech involving the words "Miss Periwinkle," "gingerbread houses," "pathetic," "never-ending doom," and "Christmas."

_"He probably wants to get you back… you know, revenge," _the voice said.

Dib was honestly bewildered. _Get me back? What did I do?_

_Could you remember what you said to him… yesterday? Maybe that's why he slapped you. _The young paranormal investigator sometimes could not believe how the voice seemed so logical at times, considering it was not real.

What _did_ he say to the Irken? _"If we humans are so inferior to you…" _That was the only part Dib could remember.

Then the voice said softly, _"'You've done a lot of things, but nothing really has changed.'"_

Knowing Zim's prideful ego…

Ah.

So Zim slapped him because of that? Dib wanted to laugh. He had taunted Zim like that a number of times before, which had usually earned him a good-placed laser burst or two.

_(but it was the game)_

_But Zim can't have slapped me because of that, _Dib told the voice. _It's so… uncharacteristic of him. He doesn't slap people just because they hurt his feelings. And I can't even tell if I did hurt his feelings. Besides, Zim's more for weapons, not little slaps like that._

The voice was silent for a while. Then, it said, _"But he has never shown any sort of sadness before, haven't you realized that?"_

Dib did not answer that particular question. Instead, swiftly changing the subject, he said, _"But Zim is absent… and I know he's got to be working on a plan now. And I can't just sit here in skool while he's getting all… evil and stuff!_

"Crazy!" someone called out. Surprised, Dib looked up at the blackboard. Then he flushed, as Miss Bitters glared at him.

_Whoops. _He hadn't realized he'd been talking out loud again.

--

He had taken a chance and ran out of the classroom, heedless of Miss Bitters's roar of rage ("Student out of class! Student out of class!), and had managed to trick a hall monitor in letting him go on. However, Miss Bitters's shout had activated the exit blocks, and now poor Dib stared up at a giant sheet of metal where the exit used to be.

Luckily, he had been carrying a small heat ray in his pocket, courtesy of his last "visit" to Zim's lab (he found out it was a heat ray when he tested it at home by merely randomly pressing the Irken symbols), and, extracting it from his pocket, pointed it at the door.

_Hiss. _The soft beam of heat melted a small hole in the metal. He carefully drew a rectangular hole, large enough for him to fit through. Then he kicked it down.

_Free! _Almost joyfully, the young boy ran through the hole, out into the gloomy sky and grey-white sidewalks.

He had an obsessive urge to find Zim. And fast.

--

_Run, Dib, run! _the voice urged him. Dib complied, dodging a stray puppy as it sat innocently on the sidewalk.

And when he came to a stop, it was because the familiar neon-green house was in clear view.

He also came to a stop because right in front of it was one of the most bizarre things he had ever seen in his life.

It consisted of a lemonade stand ( 'FREE LEMONADE,' the sign said), a smiling green alien in a black wig and a woolen hat, and what looked like a happily squealing green dog with a lemonade pitcher on its head.

Growling under his breath, Dib stomped his way over to Zim, whose smile disappeared as he realized that the figure approaching him was not a customer but his worst enemy. Gir cheered. "YAY, it's Mr. Big Head!" He proceeded to try to jump on Dib's head, but the pitcher around his head distorted his vision, and he fell on his back, giggling.

"Zim--" But Dib's slightly out-of-breath statement was cut short.

"YOU! Dib-stink, what are _you _doing here?" The Irken glared at him. "Go away, I have stupid annoying Earth customers to attend to."

There was a silence as Dib stared at Zim. _Um… what?_

"Um… what?"

"What do you mean, 'um… what?' Unless your pathetic human hearing has been damaged in some way, then you must have heard what Zim had just said! _Go away! _And aren't you supposed to be in Skool?_"_

The human indignantly replied, "Okay, my hearing has not been damaged. I did hear you, Zim, but what I couldn't get was how _stupid_ you could be!" Dib spread an arm as if to indicate their surroundings. "It's winter, Zim! Winter! As in, 'cold'! No one's going to buy lemonade when it's _cold!" _He put down the arm. "And what customers? I see no customers, only your strange green dog…" And the 'strange, green dog' let out a happy "wheee" at being acknowledged.

"YOU LIE!"

Dib sighed. "Right…" But then his voice grew suspicious. "Exactly why are you giving away lemonade anyway? And how do you even know what that is?"

At this, Zim crossed his arms haughtily. "Zim knew because he knew! Your _puny_ human brain can't even begin to comprehend the size of my intelligence…" And then he gave an obviously false smile. "And I am giving away lemodane… ledomane… lemadane… for the dumb thirsty humans that happen to come by-- hey! Dib-stink, get your filthy hands off the lemodaney-things!"

Dib, who was examining a cup of deep purple liquid, ignored him. "Jeez, Zim, what did you put into this? This just… doesn't look like lemonade!" Then the boy looked up, his eyes narrowing accusingly. "You put _something _in it, didn't you? Poison, maybe?"

"LIES!" the green Irken shrieked. "It is ordinary lenomade… ledoname!"

"Uh-huh," Dib muttered. He held out a cup. "Then drink it."

"Eh?" Zim suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. Then his face lighted up in glee. "You forget, dirty human, but I, Zim, cannot drink human drinks!"

"But this _isn't_ a human beverage," Dib retorted. "You made this, and you're an _alien_." The last word was dripping with contempt. A man walking nearby gave them a funny look.

Zim gave a fake laugh, and said, "Oh, what jokes you tell, my funny fellow human! As everyone knows, I am a human, just like you." The man smiled, visibly reassured, and walked on. When he was gone, Zim's face tightened into a mask of rage.

"I advice you, Dib-thing, to go away," he whispered softly. "Go away now."

_Wha… where had been the transition? _For Dib could see that he was now treading on dangerous ground, but childishly, he set his chin stubbornly. "No! You put something in this, and I'm not leaving until I know what it is."

Unexpectedly, a spider leg extended itself from Zim's back. _"Leave." _

Shocked, Dib could only stare at Zim. He had never seen him so serious in his anger. He saw the swift white blur of Zim's spider leg, and he could hear fabric rip… but nothing more than that. The cup in his hands fell, and purple liquid spilled all over the sidewalk.

The human looked up at Zim, whose green skin was pale. He seemed to be barely breathing. The spider leg had retracted back into his PAK.

Dib was not aware that he himself looked pale and breathless. With a tremulous hand, he reached out as if to touch the alien. "Zim…?"

Zim jerked back. _"Don't touch me," _he hissed. _"Don't."_

And with a swift turn, he picked up the leash of a foolishly giggling Gir, who Zim proceeded to drag down the entryway to the house.

Behind them was a very pale, confused human, who winced as he looked down and saw the wet stain on the sidewalk. A harsh gust of wind blew and knocked some paper cups off the lemonade stand, spilling a bit more liquid on the ground.

And Dib supposed that was when the trouble began.

--

Ah... trouble. How I adore that word.

Oh, well, review? Anyone? How about concrit?

And some people might think purple lemonade isn't really that strange... hm.

One more thing: the genres of this story is pretty vague. I can't exactly say... I don't know exactly what to specify. This story may have a touch of suspense, some drama, some angst, and maybe a fluffy moment inserted in. Or maybe not. I don't know. So for now it'll be 'general'. And, I suppose, 'angst.'


	3. Hopeless Dreams

Thank you, DTGC and Angelina Lolita, for the kind reviews! They made me feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside. xD

--

Zim was absent again the next day.

Dib felt, as he leaned against his chair and watched the gray sky from the window, that he was supposed to go after the insane Irken again, like he did yesterday.

But he could still hear the metal 'whishing' through the air, could still see the cold gray blur of metal…

And there was an odd reluctance to see the alien. _First he slaps me for no real reason, and then he almost attacks me just because… just because, _Dib thought dully. _No wonder I don't want to see him._

_But when have you ever wanted to see him? _his ever-so-familiar inner voice piped up.

_I don't know… when I want to prove to the world I'm not crazy, I want to see him… and chase him and tear at him and mutilate him and remove his organs… _

_…I see, _said the voice quietly. If Dib didn't know any better, he could've sworn that it sounded disturbed and… you know, human-like.

_You don't understand, _replied Dib with a mental sigh. As an afterthought, he added, _Which is kind of weird since you're a voice in my head. Therefore, you're… a part of me. In a way. _

_But that doesn't mean I have to understand you, _the voice said with a tinkling laugh. And as a result, Dib was convinced that this voice was definitely _not _a part of him, for his laughs never tinkled, not like that, at least.

Hee. 'Tinkled.'

_Well-- _But Dib's inner conversation was interrupted as the classroom door opened and shut with a vase-shattering slam. Wildly, the class looked around in confusion, and only Dib had the sense to actually glance at the door.

And lo and behold, there walked in the very bane of Dib's existence.

--

All right, so Zim _wasn't_ absent that day. He was merely late.

"Zim, you're late!" Miss Bitters growled, glaring contemptuously at the "funny-looking green kid," who at the moment was humming cheerily, an obviously satisfied look on his face. Normally, Miss Bitters 's glares would be sufficient enough to subdue anyone's satisfaction or cheerfulness, but Zim seemed oblivious to her deadly glare of doom. He went to his seat, sat down, and continued on humming. Dib, suspicious, kept glancing at him for an untold number of times.

_Wonder why he's so happy? _Dib mentally wondered. Then he gasped. _Maybe he just did something so extremely evil that it's unnamable. _

_Probably, _the voice agreed with him. _Maybe his lemonade plan actually was successful, and someone was stupid enough to drink it? But that can't be it, since Zim left, after--_

_He could have gone back outside again, _interrupted Dib quickly, glancing at Zim again. He almost toppled off his chair as he realized Zim was staring back at him.

And there was an oddly triumphant glint in those eyes, shielded by the purple contact lenses.

_Unbelievably disturbing, _the voice noted.

_Shut up, _Dib hissed at it, and it fell silent.

--

Meanwhile, Miss Bitter grumbled darkly under her breath. She was miffed by Zim's obvious happiness. She hated happy children.

If anything, children should be miserable, knowing they would be thrust soon enough into a cold, corporate world where, inevitably, they would fail at whatever it is they choose to do. And if by any by any chance they should succeed, they would inevitably be destroyed by their foolishness. Or _someone else's _foolishness, no doubt.

But the children would learn about that later. For now, she stood up. "Today, you will be learning about the hopelessness of _dreams_." Abruptly, she jabbed a finger at a random student, a boy with a red cap and bright orange hair sticking down from it. "You there! What do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy's eyes went wide with surprise and fear. "Uh… a doctor?" he squeaked.

Miss Bitters 's thin mouth curled. "Surprising. You do know physicians, or 'doctors', as you refer to them, are basically in charge of the lives of humans they are instructed to heal? A simple mistake, whether accidental or on purpose, could so very easily dangle a patient's life in danger…" Her eyes flashed, though it was impossible to tell behind her glasses. "Do you make lots of mistakes? If you do, I pity the humans that have to have you as a doctor…"

The orange-haired student was visibly shaking. Dib, on seeing this, raised his hand. Miss Bitters sighed.

"If this is connected in some way to a mutant vampire gerbil or anything like that, I don't want to hear it, Dib."

"No, no!" Dib's hands waved in the air. "I just wanted to say, couldn't minor mistakes be rectified by certain medicines or operations and such?"

Miss Bitters stared at him. After a while, she spoke softly. "But that wouldn't help your poor classmate's career if he _did_ make such a mistake now, would it? And what about major mistakes?"

Dib glanced at the red-capped boy, who looked like he was going to cry. Miss Bitters , looking triumphant, pointed again at another student, namely Zim.

"You, Zim, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Dib couldn't resist a taunt. "Yeah, Zim," he called, "what _do_ you want to be when you grow up? That is, assuming that you know enough human professions to answer that!"

"Heh-heh-heh…" Nervous laughter bubbled up from Zim. Inside, the Irken was calculating how may ways he could tear Dib limb-from-limb using nothing but his spider legs and a high carbon steel scalpel. "Of _course_ I know many human professions… there are just so many that I cannot choose! They are all _so_ wonderful!"

The teacher's eyes narrowed. "If this is your way of making a joke, Zim, I suggest you continue no further," Miss Bitters warned. "No human profession is ever wonderful. Why do you think we're having this lesson?"

_"Er… _to learn about human pig-smellies?" It was the only general answer he could think of. He hadn't really paying attention. His mind had been on… other things, things that made his mouth curl in an evil, satisfied smile, that fed the growing feeling of triumph in his veins.

Things that he was sure the Dib-thing would never find out.

Yes, it was safe to say Zim had carried out another one of his plans.

--

Dib couldn't stop staring at him during lunchtime.

There was just something radically different about Zim now. Sure, he still stared at his food venomously, stabbing at it in hysteric suspicion, but his very countenance… Dib decided it was the way the alien kept smiling with a creepy cheer at random people. Usually, he would sneer and smirk and shout at their "pathetic inferiority," and then asserting, with alarming conviction, that he is normal.

But no… there was something more than that.

"Hey, Gaz, notice anything weird about Zim today?" Dib murmured to his sister, still keeping his gaze focused at the Irken.

His sister, whose own gaze was focused on her Game Slave 2, muttered something like, "Everything about him is weird."

"No! I mean…" And here he narrowed his eyes at Zim. "Something different."

An indifferent grunt. Dib sighed. Sometimes he wished he had a more sociable sister.

But really…

And it was at this very moment that the voice chose to speak up. _You don't suppose he just successfully carried out a plan, now? _

_Well… _Dib looked over at Zim, who was now suspiciously examining a piece of meat. _There is a strange look in his eyes… almost psychotic really… but there was such a satisfied smile on his face ahile ago… he didn't even blink when Miss Bitters glared at him for his answer to her question… which wasn't a question really, more rhetorical._

_Satisfied that his plan is working out?_

Dib finally looked down, poking his fork at the brown substance on his tray. _If he does have a plan, it's kinda weird that I haven't… you know, discovered it yet! Usually, Zim yells his plans out loud for the world to hear just so they can 'worship its magnificence!' But he… he didn't say anything… _

_Hm, yes, _remarked the voice, sounding slightly amused. _But what else could it be?_

_I don't know! _In frustration, Dib stabbed the brown mush with his fork and noticed wryly that the fork seemed to now be stuck in the brown goo, which, on closer examination, wasn't quite as soft as he had thought.

_In any case, I think you should stalk him or something today… after school. Try to get into his lab without him noticing. The usual stuff, except this time, _and there was a definite sarcastic edge to the voice as it added, _you finally have a logical motive._

_I've had plenty of logical motives before, you--! _But Dib's reply was lost as Gaz gave him a hard punch in the ribs.

"Shut up, Dib! Your stupid voice is going to make me lose the game!" And she glared at him dangerously, before deciding her brother got the message and turning away to continue "Vampire Piggy Hunter 2."

Dib sighed. He really needed to stop talking to himself aloud.

--

No one noticed the absence of a certain purple-haired girl with braces, who usually went by the name of Gretchen. Well, perhaps Miss Bitters did, but never bothered to comment on it. Another person knew about her disappearance, but, as he was the one responsible for it, deigned from saying anything. It's not quite suspicious, really, the absence of a student. Most likely, Gretchen was home sick with a minor case of flu or some other such thing.

But as such, that was not the case. No, Gretchen was missing because of... other reasons.

--

Wow, I actually finished this… huh, I'm not actually quite sure what's going to happen next. Hm… well, I have a vague idea…


	4. Lethal Curiosity

Ah, and I'm back. You may not have noticed it, but… I'm not really good with updates… DOES THAT NOT SHOCK YOU??

Erm… yeah… I'll just start the chapter.

--

She whimpered in fear, her braces feeling uncomfortably cold in her mouth. One hair tie had been torn off in the struggle, and now she had two purple pigtails at the top of her head and a mass of tangled, knotty hair on one side.

Gretchen was scared.

Stunned into shock, more like. He had leapt unexpectedly in front of her, and she hadn't seen much except a blur of green skin and black hair-- when all of a sudden, she felt something sharp and metallic pressing into her waist and a sharp electric jolt… and that was it.

But she knew who he was. Green skin, black hair… who else but that green kid, Zim?

Gretchen shuddered. She was chained to the wall by a pair of metal handcuffs in a dimly-lit room; hanging awkwardly, she could barely move anything except her legs, which were exhausted from spending the last hour kicking the air wildly.

She didn't know what to do. When she had woken up, she was already in this room, chained to the wall… with nobody there.

The purple-haired girl gave a whimper. She wouldn't be in Skool today, and then they would call home and tell her parents to start loving her less… love-reductions were always painful for her. Ever since the last one, her parents had ignored her birthdays, gave her a paper napkin for Christmas, and killed her little Chihuahua, Lucky (her parents claimed that he ran off, but Gretchen knew better).

There was a dull, throbbing pain in her waist, and she winced. She didn't know why Zim did that, why Zim attacked her… she never did anything to him. Her mom always told her to be nice to people, and they will be nice to you.

Gretchen wondered what time it was. Maybe Skool had ended already…?

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Lucky… and if he ever made it to doggy heaven…

--

Dib tiptoed slowly on the gray path leading to Zim's house. He was dressed in a special Membrane invisi-suit (courtesy of his dad's lab, it hid his body's heat signature and visibility from most sensors and the naked eye); part of the outfit was a rather bulky helmet with an implanted camera. It was a lot easier than taking an actual camera, Dib figured. Plus, he would have less of a chance of getting detected.

The boy glanced at the eerie-looking gnomes that bordered the pathway. _First thing I'm going to do when I expose Zim and therefore gain control of his lab_, Dib decided, _is to destroy those gnomes. They really freak me out._

He quickened his pace and reached the door. And then he hesitated.

_I… hadn't really thought this part out… do I just knock…?_

Almost immediately, the door opened-- and Dib was face-to-face with a bright-green dog, fabric red tongue hanging out in an almost endearing yet weirdly annoying expression of stupidity.

An "uh…" escaped from Dib instinctively, as he momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be invisible and therefore quiet.

The green dog, who Dib knew to be the funny little robot in disguise, stood there silently for five whole seconds. Then it let out a squeal.

"I'ma go get a taco!" And it ran, only to be rebuffed by the invisible Dib.

_Darn! I should have gotten out of the way! _Desperately, Dib stepped aside, praying that the robot wouldn't notice the weird barrier that it seemed to have encountered.

The green dog sat up and looked oddly up at the door. Then it chirped, "Do that again!"

It got up and ran once more, but this time past the invisible Dib, who quickly sidestepped inside before the door closed.

_Phew. _

"Well, that went well," Dib said brightly, forgetting, once again, that he was supposed to be quiet.

The moment his voice reached the audio sensors, a robotic voice barked out, "Intruder! Foreign voice frequency detected! Intruder in the living room!"

"Gah!" _What now? _

"Um, um, _um, um…" _

_Zim will be here any minute!_

"Uh…"

_There! _A large, seemingly empty pot sat in the corner. _That will do nicely._

He hopped in, crouching and shivering from fear, and almost a second later, he heard Zim's voice.

"Computer, I see no intruder here!" Peeking over the pot's edge, Dib could see the green alien gesticulating angrily at the ceiling. "Is there something wrong with you? Maybe a technical glitch…"

"No, Zim," answered the computer wryly. "Want me to play what I heard back for you?"

"SILENCE! Oh, and yeah, play it back."

_"Well, that went well…" _Dib's cheerful voice sounded from the ceiling. The boy himself felt his heart stop as he saw Zim's red eyes narrow in anger and suspicion.

"I know that voice…"

"Yeah… isn't it that big-headed--?"

The Irken held up a hand to the ceiling. "Wait! I _know_ that voice…"

"Um… it's that big-he--"

"SILENCE!"

Dib watched, in ludicrous amazement at Zim's stupidity. Then Zim audibly gasped.

"That's the Dib's voice!"

_Bingo, _the voice inside Dib's head said dryly. _Zim is such a genius, don't you think?_

_So _now _you decide to speak up, _the boy told the voice, irritated. He also could not help but wonder why he kept having conversations with a voice that was in his mind.

_Quite sorry, dear, I was at a meeting, _replied the voice, thick with sarcasm. _What was I supposed to do? _

Dib mentally groaned. _I don't know… help me? I'm in a very bad situation here, if you hadn't noticed!_

_Well, what? What _am _I supposed to do? I'm a _voice, _if you hadn't noticed! _The voice sounded quite annoyed.

_"All of this is in your head, dear…"_

"What-- what is that _mumbling _I hear in that pot over there…? Computer! Tip it over!"

_Oh… no._

_So long, dear friend, _the voice smirked. _It was nice knowing you._

Dib squeezed his eyes shut and tightened into a little ball as he felt the pot overturn and deposit him on the floor. He opened one eye.

Inquisitive crimson eyes glittered at him. "Wha-- where is he? He must be using a cover or something!" Zim stared suspiciously at the spot where Dib was. "I heard his voice…"

_Oh, right. The suit. _Perhaps he had a chance after all. Slowly, he started to creep towards the door… then stopped.

Maybe he should go to the lab…? After all, he made it in, and it would be foolish to back out this far in the proceedings. He so did want to know what Zim was up to.

But what if something else happens and Dib gets captured…?

_What am I going to do…?_

"Computer! Activate the sprinklers!" The abrupt command took Dib by surprise, and only a few moments later did he register its implications.

_No! The suit will short out!_

Ah, well. Better to go down fighting.

Dib started flailing and screaming. "No! No! You won't get away with this, Zim!" There was a soft hiss, and then the sound of lightly falling water. A light shock of electricity tingled down his spine, and he could faintly feel water running down his neck.

The boy was visible now, and he knew it.

_Only one chance of escape… _With every ounce of his strength, Dib ran towards the door. But before he even reached it, he felt something clamp down on his ankle. Within a few seconds, he was hanging upside down from the ceiling, facing Zim's smug green face.

"You…" He struggled, face turning red from his position. _"You jerk."_

Zim chuckled, and he spoke. "Really, _Dib, _do you really expect that I would let a filthy human like _you_ infiltrate my base freely without some…" He smirked at the upside-down human. "…repercussions?"

Dib growled. "Let me down, Zim."

The alien let out another chuckle. "I don't think so. You really should remove that helmet, Dib. I can't even imagine how you managed to get it over your big smelly head!"

"My head's not big!" came Dib's automatic reply. "Why do you keep saying that?" After a pause, he added, "Nor is it smelly."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Zim answered, waving a hand around carelessly. Then his eyes clouded over, and his voice lowered. "Why did you come here, Dib-stink?"

Unprepared for Zim's sudden mood swing, Dib let out an awkward, "Um…" _What to say?_

_Oh, so you're still alive, _the voice whispered at the back of his mind. _Well, just tell the truth. What have you to lose?_

"I know you have a plan, Zim, and I'm going to stop it!" Dib blurted out. Short and sweet and to the point, wasn't he? Inside, he was trembling. _What have I to lose? My life and possibly my dignity, you idiot! _he hissed at the voice. And miraculously, he managed to keep that in his head as a mere thought, instead of the usual loud mumbles and exclamations.

"_You_… know of my plan…? _You?"_

Dib hesitated. "Well… not exactly…" he admitted, face sheepish. There was a silence as the boy squirmed uncomfortably in his upside-down position.

Zim leaned forward at Dib's reply, and, unexpectedly, a malevolent smile stole its way into his green face. "Would you _like to know_…?" he purred.

Dib's eyes widened. "What…?"

"My plan. Would you like to know it?" And here Zim's crimson eyes glittered.

Upside-down Dib wasn't quite sure on how to respond. Zim seemed sincere in his request, but his eyes… there was something odd in those eyes.

_Something was wrong…_

But this curiosity, oh, _his _curiosity! It ran in Dib's veins like… like giant radioactive pants!

_Remember, Dib, curiosity killed the cat, _the voice whispered in his mind. Dib tried his best to ignore it.

_But I have to know what his plan is, how else could I stop him if I didn't…?_

But something dark hung in the air; something vaguely felt… strange.

"…fine, Zim," muttered Dib grudgingly. "But could you let me down first?"

Zim's smirk was all Dib needed to see. He swore loudly as blackness overtook him.

--

Gretchen raised her head quickly at the sound.

_"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahck!!"_

A scream! Someone… someone was screaming…

A boy…? It sounded strangely familiar…

_"Zim…! You…!"_

Indistinct words… they sounded so familiar.

Shivering, she closed her eyes and mentally enclosed herself in an imaginary bubble of safety. Safety, yes, and happiness…

--

Well, luckily I got that over with. Reviews! And concrit! I'll give you cookies for them… --holds out tray of cookies--


	5. Hallucinations: Irken Concignahebeto

I feel depressed. I'm sorry. I've had… a funeral…

--

Smoke.

The faint smell of smoke.

"A-agh…"

Smoke.

_Why do I smell smoke…?_

"A-agh…"

Dib stirred. He could feel something binding his arms and legs. _Chains…? _he thought vaguely. Fatigue stung him, and there was an odd pain around his leg area. Groaning, he opened his eyes.

He blinked. The first thing he spotted was…

--

_a pair of huge, wide eyes, staring at him with intense fright. _

_A girl. It was a girl._

_Blinking a bit, Dib gazed blearily at the girl-shape. Then suddenly his senses came back, and with it everything that had happened in the last few hours (or have I been unconscious for so long it's been days). _

_Zim…! _

_"Whuzzat? Wha? Where am I? Where is Zim? Zim…! Zim……! Who are you?!" This last was directed to the girl, whose name still somewhat eluded him._

_Oh, wait…_

_Gretchen! _

_Gretchen…?_

_It was Gretchen, indeed. The purple-haired girl was chained to the wall, her feet dangling straight down. Her face was pale and looked moist with sweat, and her hair was a tangled mess. _

_Dib stared. In his subconscious something stirred. Gretchen wasn't at Skool, was she…?_

_In a voice that sounded as if it hadn't been used for a thousand years, Dib croaked out, "Gretchen?"_

_The girl merely stared back at him with her wide eyes. Uneasy for reasons he couldn't discern, except that it had something to do with that stare, Dib fell silent and looked down. His arms and legs were bound in chains, as he suspected, but those chains were attached to the floor. As a result, his position was comparatively easier to bear than Gretchen's: he was basically just lying on the floor. Looking around, Dib noticed he was in a small, windowless room. The only door was a thin, almost invisible rectangular outline on…_

_--_

a seemingly metallic wall.

Huh.

Wait… huh?

Dib blinked again, and then rubbed his eyes. _What…?_

_Oh, so you're awake now, _the voice whispered. Dib winced. He mumbled, "What happened…?"

_I can't believe you, _the voice sighed. _Have you forgotten so easily? Zim… _

"I know!" Dib snapped, his voice a strained string. He seemed to have forgotten that he was conversing to a voice inside his head. "I know, I know, I remember _that… _I'm talking about what happened… awhile ago."

_What did happen? _the voice asked, a smirk underneath its surface.

"I don't know," sighed Dib. He noticed he was wearing chains on his arms and legs. Just like… "A dream, maybe?"

_Ah… _the voice said. _A waking dream, perhaps? Though a rather odd dream… _

"I know!" Dib snapped once more. This voice… whatever it was… seriously needed to die. Now. "I'm not even sure why it was _Gretchen _there. She's someone I rarely think about. I really don't even notice her!"

_…like no one notices you?_ the voice suggested placidly.

Dib growled.

An obscure idea slowly took place in his head. He murmured, "Maybe that injection…" But then, he felt drowsy.

--

"Doom-di-doom-di-doom… DOOM! Labba-dabba-dibba-dabba-dabba-dibba-doo! DOO! Pinkle-minkle-little-star, how I wonder if a star, is a place where bunnies _fart…"_

A distant shout came from the other lab room. _"Gir! _I order you to shut up!"

"Okah-dokah!!" Gir fell to counting his toes, except he really hadn't any, being a robot. As a result, he fell to kicking himself in the head repeatedly while giggling and singing, _Pinkle, Minkle, Little Star._

There was a hiss as the metal doors slid open, and Zim came striding in. "Gir! Have you been keeping watch on the _Dib?" _

Gir's eyes flashed red, and he clapped his hand to his forehead in a salute. Swiftly glancing at the feed from the live camera in Dib's prison, the robot barked out, "Yes, sir. Subject I-3940 D.I.B is currently in cell 12. Subject has been unconscious for four hours, seventeen minutes, and forty-five seconds." Gir quickly looked down and back up again. "Forty-six." Back down, and then up again. "Forty-seven." Up, then down. "Forty-nine."

"Yes…" Zim waved Gir off. "Excellent. Now… gah, what is _happening?!"_

For Dib was slowly awakening. The Irken watched in increasing agitation mixed with irritation as his enemy looked blearily around the room.

"No, no, what is happening? I injected him with enough concignahebeto to knock him out for ten hours!" He stopped to count his fingers. "One, two… yes, ten hours!"

"Oooh, Mr. Big Head's looking funny…" Gir, whose blue eyes had faded back to blue, peeped over at the screen. Indeed, Dib was looking quite odd. He was swaying slightly from side to side, and his eyes seemed crossed. He was making small mumbling sounds.

He looked positively mad.

Zim peered at the screen and then turned around, waving his hand nonchalantly. "It is no matter; concignahebeto, in high amounts"  and here he smirked "is known to give its victims hallucinations. It even slows down mental activity. The repulsive Dib-monster should fall out of it in no time." Zim paused to think. "Though, in fact, the longer his hallucination is, the better for us. It would give me more time…." The alien headed for the door. "Now, Gir, I have to go calculate the amount of concignahebeto needed to knock Dib out for a few more hours. So just stay and watch him, all right? And if he tries to escape…" Zim pondered for a moment. "…scream, 'Taco!' out loud."

"Yeeeeee!!" Gir screeched. "Taco! Taco! Taco!"

Zim's right eye twitched, but he went back into the lab room, where he set about to work immediately. Syringe here, syringe there…

Gir, meanwhile, was watching the screen intently. Then he noticed a tiny little ant crawling its way determinedly on the floor.

"Ooh…"  
--

Dib was making a hard time of it. His head felt heavy; his tongue felt too thick for his mouth. Feeling sluggish, he groaned, and then suddenly…

--

_he saw a white bunny, hopping along the smooth metallic floor. Then it stopped, and sniffed the air as if there were some unknown intruder._

_Dib murmured, as if in a dream, "What is it, bunny?"_

_The bunny looked at him, and then hopped to the door. It raised a paw and tapped on its surface._

_"Oh, you want me to open it?" He smiled at the bunny through half-lidded eyes. "Okay, then." He rose, but then found his arms and legs locked._

_"Oh, I-I can't…" He shook his arms. The chains rattled. _

_The bunny stared at him through black button eyes. Then, incredibly, it spoke._

_"Dib-thing!" it shrieked in an inhumanly voice. "Why are you awake…?!"_

_And then…_

_--_

the door opened. Dib blinked, and found himself staring at a hotly flushed Irken with a syringe in his hand.

A sudden torrent of furious insults rose up to Dib's mouth, so very in contrast with his previous inactive mood. But before he could speak, as quick as a flash, Zim pounced upon him.

"G-guh… w-what…"

The Irken held him down with both hands, crimson eyes glittering. "So, Dib…" he purred, "it seems that you have somehow managed to wake up earlier than I expected. Pity…" and here he stared down at Dib's amber eyes with cold malice, "I _was _preparing everything for you."

"…everything…?" Dib's unease was unmistakable.

"Everything," Zim breathed out. "You _did _want to know what my plan was, after all."

"Y-yes…" _Voice, _Dib pleaded, _where are you? _It seemed that he had recovered his mental voice.

But the voice was silent.

"Right… so…" Out of Dib's peripheral view, he glimpsed the sharp point of the lethal syringe. He attempted to struggle, but he still felt quite out-of-sorts.

"I… will… see… you… _later…" _Zim's voice sounded farther and farther away as Dib felt the tiny pinprick in his arm.

--

That was… rather… not really a chapter at all. I mean, nothing really happened. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Especially since I haven't updated at all in a long, long, long time.

I'm sorry. I just… feel so… down… ever since… that funeral…


	6. Explanation and Lemonade

Okay... it took me a shorter time to update than I thought it would. O.O

And I must warn you: I think that Zim is getting OOC in this chapter. So, yes...

I should probably start working on 'Anise, the Hideous New Girl...'

--

He was back. She saw his red eyes, so frighteningly insect-like, bright against the pallor of his green skin. She never did get over the shock of seeing him like that. "And," he had whispered to her that morning before Skool, before he had mercilessly shackled her to the wall, before she felt that tiny pinprick on her arm, "it doesn't matter now; you're going to die, anyway…"

She had been terrified. Purely, completely, utterly terrified by the coldness of her captor. Now, she was even more so, because she could see, she _had _seen, the fierce fire that burned beneath Zim's coldly indifferent exterior, the fire that drove him to kidnap her so, the fire that manifested itself in Zim's wild, abrupt tantrums that occurred more often than not these days, the fire ignited by his unbearably interfering rival.

It was the fire that was going to drive him over the edge.

Gretchen didn't know it; she didn't even recognize it, the significance of that disturbing twinkle in Zim's scarlet eyes. But she was frightened, all the same. Frightened, and though she didn't consciously acknowledge it, the violet-haired girl knew that she would probably never live to see the outside world again.

And now, he was back. His voice was low, purring, almost comforting, but she could see the tenseness of his movements, the shiny sheen of sweat on his skin.

Gretchen may not be overly bright, but she did have senses-- rather weak ones, but nevertheless. She could see that Zim was nervous.

A wave of nausea, inexplicably, overtook her.

"Hello, pathetic worm baby." Gretchen raised her head weakly. She didn't say anything, not because she wouldn't, but because it seemed that she couldn't.

"So," Zim continued, a smile curling contemptuously around his mouth, "how are you, stink creature? Have you a wonderful day?" The words were killingly sarcastic, and she mumbled something.

"Hm?" Zim glanced at her indifferently, as if she were a patient and he a doctor. "Yes, yes… computer, release the female worm baby from her chains."

"Sure, fine." The chains opened with a click, and with a surprised grunt, Gretchen fell to the ground. Wildly, she looked up with frantic eyes, but then collapsed to the floor, overcome with another urge to vomit. The Irken observed her with nonexistent eyebrows raised.

"Interesting," murmured Zim. Kneeling down to her level, he asked, "Filthy human, how do you feel?"

The girl said nothing, too overcome by nausea to say anything. She clamped her mouth shut, afraid that as soon as she opened it, bile would pour out. Instead, Gretchen shook her head frantically.

Zim frowned. Irritated, he repeated, "_How _do you feel?"

Gretchen squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head even more wildly, purple frizz flying everywhere. She retched, and the Irken leapt backward with a disgusted yelp. He couldn't even bear touching a filthy earth creature, much less one who seemed close to vomiting. In his mind, he noted, _Panicky. Seemingly nauseous._

Gretchen gave a sudden gasp; she felt so very dizzy. She really couldn't hold it in anymore. Bending forward, she vomited, gray sludge hitting the floor with a sickening sound.

"Ugh!" Utterly repulsed, Zim stepped back again. _Such disgusting creatures, _he thought.

"Well, it seems that you, female worm baby, are allergic to concignahebeto." He paused, and then shrugged. "Ah, well. You _are _going to die anyway. So, I suppose it doesn't matter." He produced a syringe, ominously glinting, out from God-knows-where. A sneer forming on his face, he took hold of Gretchen's arm tightly.

_No! _But she was too weak to struggle, too drained from her previous intake of concignahebeto. "You've been a fine test case," Zim murmured in her ear. "Unfortunately, _that _is all you'll ever be." He located the correct vein with a critical eye, and carefully pushed in the needle. He watched as Gretchen's eyes fluttered, and then shut slowly. Her breathing stilled.

"Mm." The alien stood up in one graceful motion. Carelessly, he dropped the syringe besides the body of Gretchen. "Computer, clean up the human's gray regurgitation of food on the floor. And dispose of that syringe, in case she wakes up, if she ever does." He paused and chuckled in a rare moment of amusement caused by something other than Dib. "Wouldn't want her hurting herself."

--

"Wake up, filthy human."

Light. Harsh and bright.

"Wake _up." _The last word was drawn out in an unearthly hiss.

Drowsiness. He didn't want to wake up. Yet he felt a sudden sharp tug on his hair.

"_Wake… up."_

An abrupt slap on the face.

Dib didn't open his eyes; he didn't want to.

He _wanted _to stay unconscious, asleep, or at least half-asleep as he was now. He felt tired, utterly sluggish.

But someone was shaking him mercilessly to undesirable consciousness.

"Wha--what?" He blinked. Light was glaring at him mercilessly, uncaring of its painful brightness towards his sensitive eyes. Speaking of which… he blinked again. There was something wrong.

_Where are your glasses?_

His hands fluttered uselessly. Dib realized that, once again, he'd been shackled. After a few experimental squirms, the human concluded that he was strapped to a table.

A dissection table.

He felt a little chill down his spine. Sweet, sweet irony… wasn't he always the one threatening Zim with lovely images of the alien being on a dissection table with stomach ripped open, insides fully exposed?

_And now look where you are._

_God, _muttered Dib inside his head. _Do you ever shut up?_

_Why, don't take that tone with me, _the voice replied, sounding affronted. _You were the one screaming for me awhile ago._

_I-- I wasn't screaming for you! _Dib wrinkled his nose. It was a bit itchy. _Besides, Zim almost attacked me back then! He had a syringe! That was different!  
Mm-hm, _the voice muttered, unconvinced. Dib rolled his eyes, and, almost as if by doing so, the white light unexpectedly went out. The room was entirely plunged in darkness.

"W-what?" Dib felt a cold drop of sweat on his forehead. It slid down the side of his head slowly. "Zim?"

Something glinted in the darkness.

"Zim…?"

He blinked rapidly. Something had just moved, as swift and sure as a cat in the dark.

"Hello, Dib."

Dib choked. He could feel something on top of his chest, straddling him, and when the thing moved, he knew it was Zim. Absurdly, after all the moments of tension and fright and terror and half-insanity, the human felt a strong urge to laugh. He let out a little giggle, his chest moving up and down in quick bursts.

"Dib-thing?" Dib felt a finger slide down his cheek. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing," replied Dib, turning his head away from the black-gloved finger. "But would you please get off me? And could you turn on the lights? I can't see anything in the dark!"

There was a long pause. Then, when Zim replied, his voice was strangely jerky. "I… see, Dib-stink. So that… is the way it's going to be." Dib felt the Irken getting off of him. His mind was curiously fogged by Zim's cryptic words.

The lights turned on, this time a softer shade, almost gray. Eyesight slightly blurred, Dib twisted his head around and glimpsed Zim right beside him. Almost automatically, words poured out of his mouth before he stopped to think.

"All right, Zim," he sighed, as if resigned, "when you get to my head, could you at least not cut my brain apart? I would like it intact."

_What? _the voice yelped inside his head.

_What? _Dib muttered back.

_You're just going to let him win? _whispered the voice furiously. _You're just going to let him dissect you, the only hope of Earth? Don't you _realize _what you're doing?_

_That's a funny question, _Dib reflected. Do _I know what I'm doing?_

"Dib-stink, talking to the voices inside your head again?" Zim's voice cut in abruptly through his thoughts.

Instead of feeling furious, or at least annoyed, Dib felt oddly complacent. He replied, agreeably enough, "Yep. But you know, it's actually only one voice, you know. And it sounds like a real human, not a voice of my own imagination. It's so weird." He was blabbing, and now he couldn't stop himself. "Hey, Zim, do you know where my glasses are? I woke up without them. Oh, wait, you're going to cut me open, aren't you, so I suppose I'm going to die anyway. Oh, well. I really did like those glasses."

Zim's mouth curled. Oh, the Dib could always amuse him. He was like a toy, really. An enjoyable one. But even toys must be thrown out sometime.

"Your glasses, Dib-worm, are with my robot slave right now. No doubt he's broken them," concluded Zim dryly. "But anyhow," continued Zim, "just how do you know you're going to die, Dib-stink?"

Dib felt his calmness slipping away. He turned to stare at the Irken with wide eyes, unhindered by his glasses. They were such a warm shade of amber, Zim realized.

"_Am _I going to die?" whispered Dib. Agreeableness was far beyond him now; all he felt was fear.

Eyes glittering, Zim leaned in close and breathed, "Everybody dies, human."

Dib turned his head away. "What did you do to me, Zim?" His voice was tired, weary.

"What?" Zim, for his part, looked genuinely perplexed. Then he flushed, remembering. "I did nothing!"

"No…" Dib closed his eyes and sighed. "First, the injections. Explain."

Zim stroked his chin in a rare expression of thinking.

"… fine. It won't matter now, anyway." Just like it won't matter with Gretchen.

Dib said nothing, yet he fully realized the significance of Zim's words.

"The injections. Yes." Zim crossed his arms thoughtfully. "I injected concignahebeto into your system. It's a substance I developed myself. I needed it for you."

"For me?" Dib took a sharp gasp. "You were going to kill… me?"

Zim's mouth twisted. "No… I just needed it as a sedative, you might say. I didn't want to kill you… just yet. You, who has interfered in my plans for so long, die in a peaceful drug-induced sleep? No…" The Irken shook his head. "That is too easy for you. I wanted to make you squirm, to see you screaming in pain and agony."

Dib gave a harsh grunt. "And all the possible trauma I could get from this experience isn't enough?"

As if Dib didn't speak, Zim continued on. "I tested it on small animals first, squirrels, guinea pigs…" His mouth twisted. "But I needed to test it on a human. And I got her."

Dib felt a little stab of horror at the word 'her.' "Don't tell me," he whispered.

At Dib's obvious uneasiness, Zim chuckled darkly. "_Yes… _Gretchen." Dib winced, unnoticed, as Zim examined one hand. "She was a fairly fine test case, but… I didn't know she was allergic to concignahebeto."

This time, the human whipped his head around, and when he spoke, his voice was tight with anger. "What? What did you do to her?"

Zim shrugged, untouched by Dib's anger. He had seen it enough to get used to it, and in fact, now it was quite welcoming to him. Dib's mostly calm (mostly) state had left him feeling nervous, no matter how many times he might deny it later on. He rather forgot that Dib's inactiveness was largely due to the concignahebeto injections.

And there was the matter of how those amber eyes blazed with alluring fire when their owner was angry.

"Mm, I think she's most likely dead right now."

Dib's eyes widened with absolute shock and horror. He had know Zim could be a violent jerk, but an indifferent, cold murderer? "Zim," he whispered. "You… you…"

"Yes, I killed her, did I not? She _was _going to die, anyway." Zim gazed serenely into Dib's eyes. "And it's all your fault."

"My… my fault…?"

"You _pushed _me." The Irken's eyes had turned darker now, dark and brooding. His voice was as accusatory as a five-year old accusing another child of pushing him, but his eyes foretold danger. "You pushed me, and I fell."

Silence.

"You pushed me," repeated Zim again. And when he continued, his voice gradually rose. "See now? How many times have you badgered me, with your interfering pig face and your filthy earth words and your insistence that _I can't do anything?" _He shrieked this last bit, his face flushed with excitement. His words gathered speed. "You keep saying it, over and over and over, and how did Zim wish it to stop, I wanted it to stop…!" He ripped his black glove off, and Dib felt an unpleasant sensation, close to retching, when he saw the three green digits, smooth and nail-less.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Zim showed the palm of his hand. On it was the black Irken symbol, and on the bottom there was small yet distinct Irken lettering.

"They threw me out," said Zim, his voice now expressionless. "The Tallest called me and told me that it had ended, that my mission was a lie. At first, I didn't believe it. I continued work as usual, with that lemonade scheme that _you _spoiled again, you interfering pig weasel, but then…

"They had sent someone over-- his name was Rab, I remembered him from the days of my training-- and he had told me that I had to be marked. Marked with the brand, and then that was when I realized how serious it was. To be branded like a common piece of Schermfloog, like a filthy earth cow, you might say, that is the most dishonorable…" Zim stopped. Then he murmured, seemingly without a trace of bitterness, "It marked me as an exile. Officially, I was no longer an Irken. Irk is not my home planet anymore. So, I must prove…" The Irken began to pace, talking as if he were talking to himself.

"I must prove my allegiance to the empire, yes, I must prove it by taking over this pathetic rock of dirt. But there is only one thing in my way, and the Dib-worm is that thing… so very interfering, he is… oh, how I long to crush his skull against the ground and rip him into bloody shreds and…" Zim lapsed into his native language, mumbling syllables that Dib couldn't decipher, much less hear.

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear them.

In the last few minutes, the human had undergone a sudden revelation about the alien creature that he'd chased for so long. Perhaps it wasn't an admirably insightful one, but it was a revelation to _him, _nevertheless.

Zim was going mad, Dib understood.

He also understood that it was because of him.

And now, the human also understood that Zim's whole plan, the plan that Dib was so curious to find out, was not aimed at taking over the Earth. It was to get rid of the one person who was preventing the Irken from taking over the Earth: namely, Dib.

There was sudden silence, and Dib opened his mouth to speak. What came out was far from what he wished to say.

"Hey, Zim," Dib said. Even if there was none on his face, there was a smile in his voice. "You finally managed to say lemonade right."

--

Wow, I hate this chapter so much. Zim's character is getting way off. Ugh… but I really couldn't find any other way to… ugh…

But I do like the ending of the chapter, though. I don't know why…

And in case you're wondering when Zim said lemonade, it was in the paragraph that started with, " 'They threw me out,' said Zim…" Yeah… and in the second chapter, I think it was, Zim couldn't really pronounce the word lemonade.


End file.
